


the big blue sky, the hum of mother nature

by reptilianunderwear



Category: Haikyuu!!, 銀の匙 | Silver Spoon
Genre: M/M, a fcking silver spoon au, u don't need to have any knowledge of silver spoon to read!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianunderwear/pseuds/reptilianunderwear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Question: The big blue sky... The hum of mother nature... An over-friendly calf... and no cell phone signal. Where am I?<br/>(Answer: Ezono Agricultural High School)</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>a series of drabbles set with the hq kids at agricultural school. no knowledge of silver spoon is needed (but you should watch it anyway).</p>
            </blockquote>





	the big blue sky, the hum of mother nature

**Author's Note:**

> i'm rewatching silver spoon and also i'm gay so
> 
> seriously tho all u need to know is that ezono is a school where kids go to be farmers. they do Farm Stuff™.

_“Iwa-chan,”_

Hajime rolls over, tugging his pillow over his head. It can’t be time for his morning practicum with the dairy cows yet, he surely wouldn’t sleep through his alarm. Plus, it feels as if he’s only been sleeping for an hour or so.

_"Iwa-chan,”_

It’s more insistent this time. Hajime recognizes the tone.

_“Iwa-chan!”_

In a single swift movement, Hajime sits up and swings his pillow at the opening of his bunk. It hits the target square in the face, sending him sprawling backwards with a muffled squeak. Tooru, indignant, pouts and throws the pillow back. Hajime relaxes his posture so that his head isn’t brushing the bottom of the bunk above him, scowls and crosses his arms.

“What,” Hajime growls, low enough so as not to wake his roommates, but loud enough that Tooru can hear. Tooru, still on the ground, breaks into a mischievous grin.

“Wanna see something cool?” he asks, sly and sneaky like a fox trying to get into the henhouse. Hajime’s frown deepens, Tooru’s smile grows, and the latter stands and brushes off his star-printed pajama pants.

“It’s eleven at night,” Hajime says, pointing to his digital alarm clock. “Lights out was an hour ago.”

“Which means no one else will be out!” Tooru protests. Hajime glances outside the window. Faint lights from the illuminated walkways seep in through the bars.

“What is it,” Hajime asks. It’s less of a question than it is a statement. Tooru winks.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, offering a hand to help Hajime out of bed. Hajime takes it without a second thought, mostly out of habit. “But I promise it’s really cool!”

“ _Where_ is it?” Hajime slips on his shoes and rubs the sand out of his eyes. Tooru produces a map of campus from his pants pocket, and points to one of the western wheat fields. “What could there possibly be to see in the wheat fields at eleven at night?”

“You’ll _see_ if you come with me,” Tooru insists, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hajime cracks open the door to his room and peers outside. The coast looks clear—no teachers or night watches. They could probably get out through the front doors if they’re careful.

“You’re going to be in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“There’s no _I_ in _team_ , Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, slipping through the door and leading the way down the hall, tiptoeing past other dorm doors with Hajime grudging along behind.

They fall silent as they round the corner from the boys’ dorms into the main building. To their left sits the hall to the cafeteria. To their right, the girls’ dorms. And straight ahead, the front doors. Tooru goes first, creeping up and casting looks around to see if any teachers are lurking in the shadows, just waiting to catch unsuspecting students out of their beds. Hajime follows much more casually, pushing the door open and stepping into the balmy night air.

The cicadas chirp is a gentle buzz in the background, a static mixed with the whooshing of trees in a summer breeze. The air smells like it always does—fresh and clean and heavy with heat. Hajime breathes in deep, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He loves the way the countryside feels, the way it smells, the way it—

“Hurry up, slow-poke,” Tooru teases, enthusiasm clinging to every word. He practically buzzes with excitement, dashing along the pathways past the stables and barns and storehouses. Hajime follows him at the same pace until they’re running, bounding off the paths and cutting into the forest to the western wheat field. They jump over tree roots and underbrush, and Hajime forgets that he’s sixteen years old (much too old to be running around a forest at night like a child) and that he has a practicum in the morning and classes after that. He just follows Tooru through the woods, trying to keep up.

But Tooru’s always had longer legs than him, even when they were kids. He’s faster and more agile, but Hajime can beat him in arm-wrestling and strength any day. But out here, when Tooru can run and breathe in the fresh air and leap over obstacles with ease while Hajime has to take more care, he’s no match.

“Wait, stop,” Tooru says, an edge to his voice. Hajime skids to a stop at the edge of the treeline. About three yards ahead, the wheat field starts. It’s tall and golden, dyed blue by the nighttime lighting. Tooru hums, dissatisfied. “We can’t see it from here. Come one,” he turns and goes to the nearest tree, grabbing onto a low-hanging branch and pulling himself up. Hajime is reminded that even if he can beat Tooru in brute strength, he’s still pretty damn strong. “Are you coming?” Tooru calls from where he perches, poised to begin his climb

Hajime grumbles and follows, much more clumsy and slower. Once he finally reaches the near-top, where Tooru sits with his long legs dangling down in the open air, he takes a minute to catch his breath. His sparse bangs stick to his forehead with a light sheen of sweat. He takes quick, big gulps of air and eases himself down next to Tooru, who seems significantly less sweaty and significantly less winded.

“Okay, what’s so important—” Hajime trails off, following where Tooru points down at the wheat field.

Flattened sections of grain spiral out from the center of the field, forming geometric spokes like a wheel or a pie cut into slices. Hajime narrows his eyes and looks closer. “S’that it?”

Tooru makes a noise of dissent. “Of course! Do you even know what that is?!”

“A buncha vandals, lowering our harvest rate?” Hajime suggests, trying to make sense of the pattern in the field. Tooru looks downright offended.

“It’s a _crop circle_ , Iwa-chan! A _crop circle_! Do you know what that _means_?!” he asks, gesturing wildly with his hands. Hajime looks at him, deadpan. Tooru sighs dramatically. “It means that our school has been visited by _aliens_. _Extraterrestrials!_ ”

“Or,” Hajime blinks slowly. “Our school has been vandalized.”

“No! It’s aliens, I’m sure of it! It’s just like when we were little—”

Hajime rolls his eyes and groans. “Not this again, Oikawa—”

“—And we found that crop circle in your mother’s field! Remember?” Tooru leans in close, eyes burning with an intense need for Hajime to be interested. Hajime scoots back on the tree branch, until his back is against the trunk.  “You didn’t believe me at first, but then I showed you the burnt tips of the grains and how the design lined up with the golden ratio—”

“I _remember_ , Tooru. But this isn’t aliens, and neither was that—”

“It _was_!”

Tooru’s closer now, frowning, eyebrows furrowed. Hajime’s ears burn a little, but he doesn’t know why. Realization flashes over Tooru’s face as he comes to the conclusion that Hajime does, that they are entirely too close. But he doesn’t move. He stays there, nearly leaning over Hajime, noses inches apart. “It was,” he states, more firmly. Hajime swallows hard.

“O…Okay, but…” Hajime struggles for something to say to rebuke, but he can feel Tooru’s breath on his mouth and it’s warm and nice and he thinks he likes it. He glances down at Tooru’s lips, soft and pink and coated with strawberry Chapstick. Tooru must’ve noticed, because he purses them a little. To Hajime, it kind of looks like a pucker, like what middle schoolers did on Valentine’s Day when they gave each other pecks on the lips.

Tooru sucks in a deep breath through his nose, and Hajime holds his breath for a beat. Then, all of a sudden, Tooru closes the gap and presses his lips against Hajime’s. His eyes are closed tight, and his lips taste like strawberries, like the ones Tooru’s father grows in big, sprawling fields. Hajime closes his eyes tight, too, and pushes his lips back. They stay like that for a minute, a heartbeat, and Tooru leans back. Hajime wipes his lips.

“Did you just wipe your lips?” Tooru asks, offended. Hajime scoffs.

“Of course, your Chapstick is sticky,” He says. Tooru pouts, and settles back onto the branch, his feet swinging in the air. Hajime watches them, and Tooru watches the crop circle.

“…I still don’t think it’s aliens,” Hajime says, hefting himself up in preparation to climb down from the tree. Tooru sniffs and makes some other unsatisfied noises, hopping down from his branch.

“Well, then I don’t think you’re good at kissing,” Tooru huffs, nimbly climbing down the tree. Hajime comes down a lot slower and with a lot more falling than climbing. He brushes off the leaves from his pajama pants, and looks Tooru dead in the eye.

“Then I don’t think the night watch will mind if I tell them exactly where we were kissing, after lights out,” he says, a challenge in his voice. Tooru narrows his eyes.

“You’d go down for that, too,” he remarks, crossing his arms.

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice to defend my kissing abilities,” Hajime says. Tooru gets that mischievous glint back in his eyes and steps closer.

“Maybe you just need practice,”

           

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna request..,,, just like,,.,.. comment a ship + two words...,,,... and i'll probably write a drabble about it,.,.. (pls request im desperate)


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